My Kurt and Blaine Collection
by happyinchintz72
Summary: A Collection of One-Shots based on random prompts. Each story will always be around 1-3,000. I hope you enjoy them :  :


**_Hello all :)_**

**_This is my collection of prompt fills. All fills are usually around 1-2,000 words, depending upon subject matter :)_**  
**_They're a WIDE mix of ideas and prompts so each is COMPLETELY unrelated unless I say it's connected to something._**

**_I only really fill in prompts whenever I get time and usually take prompts from LJ OR tumblr. (my links in profile) and I love how random the ones are that I've received so far! I hope you like them! :D_**

* * *

**PROMPT 1: Reading Aloud**  
**From 'golden-perception' on tumblr**

It had only happened twice in his first week but Kurt wasn't used to it anymore. Being called _those _names wasn't a daily routine ever since the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy had wrapped him up and kept him safe.

To hear them was akin to the first time he'd learned the word – stinging and fiercely upsetting. He wasn't about to let _that Neanderthal _know how much it had got to him though – no way. Kurt Hummel was far too stubborn for that.

As he'd thrown his bag onto his bed and thrown himself in much the same fashion, he felt his brow tense and temples throb as they always did when a headache teased to take control. It had been a horrible week and Glee Club hadn't even helped much despite their valiant and much appreciated efforts to really try to welcome him back.

Finn had enjoyed playing the protective older brother, much to Kurt's secret amusement and slight irritation, Puck had stuck by his word and formed a literal perimeter around Kurt's body every single time he made a trek down the corridor and even Quinn had stuck her nose in the air, linked his arm and boldly placed herself in the path of potential slushies. It all meant a lot but, if he was honest, Kurt just wanted... normal. He just wanted peace and quiet.

With limbs like lead, he fished in his bag, his arm the only part of his body moving as he stayed slumped on his side. He slid out the novel they'd been forced to read for Lit class – The Bell Jar – and attempted to begin the mammoth task of ploughing through it to make sense of the symbolism. The essay was due in four days. It was cruelty, Kurt mused petulantly, roughly yanking open the pages with a frown, whoever created homework should just go crawl up and die.

He was not in a good mood.

* * *

"Good afternoon Mr Hummel."

Burt still wasn't sure whether this kid was for real but nodded nonetheless and stepped to the side to let him in.

"Burt, Blaine, you can call me Burt. I've told you this before."

Blaine smiled, nodding his understanding. "Is Kurt upstairs?"

"Yea but watch his mood though, my kid can have a temper when he wants to and this week has been rough on him."

With an air of easy and smooth confidence that Burt hadn't seen since the likes of Cary Grant, Blaine took off his coat. He was clearly in thought, his brow creased ever so slightly. "Is it ok?" he gestured upstairs politely.

"Go ahead kid," Burt said, sending Blaine into the lion's den, "if you can make him smile then there's a slice of Carole's lemon cake in the kitchen with your name on it."

Blaine smiled widely. "That's very kind of you," he answered, again, ducking his head politely. He turned to climb the stairs in one swift motion.

"Door stays open," Burt called to his back with a rough sigh- Kurt growing up was so much to get used to.

As Blaine climbed the stairs he felt the feeling he knew he'd never grow tired of. He'd say butterflies but it was stronger than that, more substantial and effecting in a way that caused seemingly normal tasks like breathing out to become something Blaine had to physically remind himself to do. He smiled, drinking in the scent of Kurt's oil burner even before he reached his room. The thing was, Blaine had grown to appreciate the smallest details that made Kurt who he was. Blaine had never been able to do that with another person before and somehow it was becoming addictive to learn more and more about the boy he couldn't push from his mind for even a second.

He'd learned a lot in their short time together. Kurt was funny. Kurt didn't think he was but there was something about his biting wit and sarcasm that Blaine knew came from necessity – he could hear Kurt using it to spear someone with words when they'd wronged him. It was simultaneously amazing and worrying that this was the route of Kurt's humour but the underlying natural sense of comedic timing was as easy as breathing for Kurt Hummel.

Blaine knew his coffee order, his favourite movie, the brand of hairspray he so frequently diffused and he could spend hours mapping the varying nuances in Kurt's scent – it was intoxicating – but he wanted more. It was a feature of their relationship together, that stark honesty, and it was one which Blaine revered and eyed sideways on some occasions. They were both very capable of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing and completely screwing up a situation but it was miraculous and wonderful how that never kept them apart, it, in an odd and confusing way, was something that drew them so much closer.

A snap from Kurt was enough for Blaine to think about the words, consider if he agreed before replying with either an argument or a solid understanding. It was addictive to see the flicker of Kurt's eyelashes at the realisation that someone wasn't flinching, they weren't going to leave and his ability to keep people at arm's length was never going to work with Blaine. Some miracle existed to make two hormonal teenage boys in the midst of adolescent confusion so open and bare with each other – it was a miracle Blaine recognised in every moment he spent with Kurt.

That was why, the moment he eased Kurt's door open, he knew the role he had to play after a single glance at the figure curled on his side on his bed.

"Hey," he announced, startling Kurt and watching as he scrambled to a sitting position.

"Blaine!" Kurt breathed in sharply, "I thought you weren't coming over tonight." He felt his heart quicken happily as he took in Blaine's more rumpled hair and blushed cheeks. It was clearly awful weather outside but it looked good on Blaine – _so good_.

"I changed my mind," Blaine sang, perching himself on the duvet.

"Evidently."

Blaine watched as Kurt slid a carved wooden bookmark into his novel, discarding it to one side. He could see the crumpled look on his boyfriend's face and it was enough to intensify the ever present ache in his chest.

"Bad day?"

Kurt blinked under his eyelashes. It was something else to have a boyfriend at last, especially when said boyfriend was Blaine 'I live in a world of sunshine and rainbows' Anderson.

"Bad week," Kurt sighed, immediately regretting his honesty. He didn't want to talk about it, barely wanted to even think about it, not when Blaine was so close, so warm and his mind was swimming with the desperate need to just yank him close.

"What's this?" he asked, retrieving the discarded novel.

"Lit homework. I have three painful days to read the entire thing and it's not made any easier by the fact that it feels like my brain is trying to push its way out of my skull."

The frustration was evident and imprinted into Kurt's expression.

"You taken pills for your headache?" Blaine asked, turning and placing his hand over Kurt's fingers gently. If he knew anything about Kurt, he knew how much he appreciated touch.

"Mmmm hmmm," Kurt breathed out in a half groan, his eyes closing as his other hand pressed at his temple. It hurt, it ached, his joints were stiff, his mind tangled with never-ending conflicted thoughts but, above all, he had so much to do.

"I really like this book," Blaine offered gently, marvelling at Kurt's raised eyebrows. It was the accompanied trademark smirk that followed which caused Blaine's heart to soar.

"Really?"

"Read it last Summer. It was on a list of top one hundred books or something, I think. Anyway, it's excellent." Kurt sighed, looking down at their hands sleepily. Silence took hold for a moment as Blaine threaded his fingers further into Kurt's palm, feeling the shudder of Kurt's skin against his own. "I know you've had a tough week and you don't want to talk about it now but I want you to talk to me about it eventually. I don't like seeing you like this."

Kurt felt his skin balm with comfort. This boy... this boy was so gentle yet so insistent all at once. It was perfect.

"I will. Just not now," Kurt replied, eventually looking into Blaine's eyes with a tiny smile. "I'm pleased you came."

"I was just bored. Had nothing better to do," Blaine teased, looking down at his knee then back up, winking out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh I see how it is," Kurt quipped back. As he took another breath, his hand inched closer bringing his body with him in one swooping attempt to enter Blaine's personal space. He needed it.

No words were required for Blaine to realise how much Kurt craved proximity. Usually, he was statuesque and standoffish, eternally surprised to be reached for and pulled close and all with an unassuming notion that this was the way people expected him to be. Blaine was different. He knew he touched too often whether it was a tug on someone's elbow or a nudge to the shoulder, Blaine liked that connection in life, the ability to fuse with another person even for a brief moment. He didn't receive the same treatment too often but he was all too free to reach out himself and gain that nearness he longed for. Having a boyfriend had come as a shock, even for Blaine, as he knew that it was allowed now- it was welcomed. The icing on the cake was that Kurt was one of the only people he'd ever met who reacted so noticeably to the simplest of physical contact.

"You want me to help with your homework?"

Kurt groaned, his head falling into his hands. "Can I not just quit school, get on a plane and fly off to some desert island somewhere?"

Blaine chuckled, trailing his fingers up Kurt's forearm. The goosebumps in response were a little too much to handle. "Look, how about I read and you listen. That way you don't have to use your eyes and make your head worse, you can just listen and take it in?"

Kurt peeled his fingers from his face and just stared. It was mind boggling how, in the space of a matter of months, his life had turned entirely upside down. A boyfriend was something other people had but now, sitting feeling like hell after a week of tension, Kurt was adamant he was dreaming.

"You want to read to me?" Kurt asked in bewilderment, his voice a little dreamy. It was impossible to stay composed when Blaine Anderson switched the 'superboyfriend' button.

"If you'd like. I enjoy reading out loud," he explained, sliding back against the wall into the pillows at the head of Kurt's bed. The softness of them was somewhat overwhelming.

Blaine let his eyes lock on Kurt's, wide and bright. "You like the sound of your own voice, more like," Kurt teased, a little blush creeping at the edge of his cheeks.

"Maybe."

"Ok then," Kurt agreed, settling into a sitting position on the other side of the bed, "impress me with your narration skills."

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "Not until you come here."

As always, Kurt blanched, unsure of exactly what Blaine was suggesting. He tentatively crawled towards Blaine, avoiding his eyes, and settled to his side with his feet drawn up under him. After a few days apart, Kurt felt the rush of intense affection spark inside of him, rattling his mind out of its confines. A week at McKinley had sent him spiralling back into old habits; those past tendencies to think and behave a certain way returned but a few minutes with Blaine – comforting, solid, dependable, clueless, impulsive Blaine – Kurt's mind eased, clouded by how _much _he could feel if he just let himself.

Kurt smiled as Blaine eased open the book at the marker and began to read.

"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out."

Kurt focused in on the timbre of Blaine's voice, the way his lips landed softly back together after each syllable and the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. The pulse of pain in his head was waning, probably from the medication, but Kurt didn't seem to care any longer. He couldn't stop looking. He felt his stomach flip as Blaine's eyelashes landed on his cheek every few seconds- they actually _fluttered_. Kurt shot to reality in a second as Blaine shuffled, still reading. He wanted to laugh at himself, to shake his head and snap himself out of his shameless inner monologue of worshipping Blaine's every detail but there was something so unique about being so close to someone in this way without them being aware that they were being studied. Kurt was sure that, even if Blaine knew, he would secretly enjoy it.

"I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."

Kurt shuffled down into the pillows, curling to his side against the heat of Blaine's arm. The reading stopped causing Kurt's heart to quicken for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Feel free to snuggle," Blaine said softly before continuing. The utter sincerity to his voice made Kurt's skin tingle furiously. He closed his eyes and with pursed lips, curved into Blaine's side, his head hesitantly attempting to rest to the side of Blaine's chest. As a blanket of warmth snaked its way over his entire body, Kurt felt shrouded , wrapped up and bundled close in a way he was certain he would never ever take for granted. He understood being pushed away and being kept at arm's length – they were familiar concepts – but this, the act of being wanted, cared for... treasured- it was all so overwhelming.

The vibration of every word ran through Blaine's chest, deep and genuine, and within seconds, Kurt's eyes fell closed, not before gasping woozily at the sensation of a firm but fond kiss to his hair.


End file.
